


It's Not A Date!

by palegingerade



Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-01 14:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14523060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palegingerade/pseuds/palegingerade
Summary: Vyvyan is going on his first ever date, but better than that, his first ever date with Rick. After all, it's hard to balance a full and extremely new and exciting sex life when they didn't have a bloody minute to themselves in this house!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really need to start posting more than once a month :) but I'm still here. This was meant to be a quick one-shot but I liked the idea so it's a two part.. for now.

" _You're_ going on a date?" 

"It's not a date."

"Blimey, Vyv, now I've heard everything."

"It's not a date!"

"Well what is it then, enlighten me." Grins Mike, red-faced from holding in another bout of extremely annoying, impending laughter.

"Oh you know, just going the cinema." Vyvyan shrugs flippantly, trying, at least, to sound convincing.

"With Rick?"

"Yeah."

"You and Rick, together?"

"Yes!" He huffs, doing up his bootlace with the tenth roll of his eyes. "We're just going to watch a film, that's all."

"The two of you?"

"Uhuh."

"Together? The two of you? Watching a film.."

"Yes, I think we've established that, Michael! Rick and I - two people - are going to watch a film. Together. At the bloody cinema. Got it? AND IF HE DOESN'T GET HIS SPOTTY BOTTOM IN GEAR IN PRECISELY THREE SECONDS FLAT, I'M LEAVING, WITH OR WITHOUT HIM, THE BASTARD!" He yells in the vague direction of the bathroom to no reply.

"But it's not a date?"

"Right that's it, out. Get out." Vyvyan finally snaps, attempting to slam his bedroom door on Mike's grinning face, squeezing his cheeks hard in the gap, until another floating head appears above it in parallel.

"Oh wow. Does that mean we can come too then, Vyvyan?"

"Neil, you haven't come to since the day you were born." 

Mike jokes, his features squashed and framed by wefts of the hippy's straggly hair. A scene that would have been quite amusing, if Vyvyan wasn't so panicked. "No you bloody can't! It's private. Bugger off!" He forces the hinge closed, accompanied by groans and giggles from his other housemates, blushing furiously all the while until it's safe to let go.

_"Aw it's sweet,"_

_"I think it's nice,"_

"Piss off, the pair of you. It's a film, that's all. A bloody film," he shouts, "not an arsing wedding ceremony!"

_"So then why are you so nervous, Vyv, if it's just a film?"_

Hmm. Maybe the floating heads had a point..

Why was he so nervous, exactly? 

There was nothing to be afraid of; it was only Rick.

He'd been spending a lot of time with Rick lately, secretly in secret, and for months now, so these fluttering butterflies in his belly shouldn't still be there, should they? They'd both known each other far too long for all that, but the way he felt now: palms sweating and heart racing as if he'd had a bucket of strong coffee, was a very odd feeling indeed, and if Vyvyan wasn't a rather brilliant and clever medical student, he'd swear he was coming down with the flu.

He would make Rick take care of him, he thinks, shrugging it off so he could carry on getting dressed. He had far more urgent matters to worry about at the moment than Mike and Neil's stupidity.

Close shave or a rather suave and manly hint of stubble? 

If he could even call those sparse fair hairs on his upper lip stubble..

In the right light there's definitely hair there, he decides, grazing his palm lightly over his jaw, and he knew from experience if they kissed for long enough and hard it was enough to grate Rick's chin and make it red and bruised for days. Vyvyan liked that, it was almost a badge of honour and a fierce warning to others: _back off, he's mine!_ And Rick didn't seem to mind those kind of injuries either.

Anyway, now wasn't the time to fantasise about that. 

Faded or suspiciously stained band tshirt?

Aftershave or no aftershave?? 

Perhaps he was over thinking the issue, but that last one was pushing it. The only aftershave in the house was Mike's and Vyvyan really shouldn't resort to wearing that, he thinks.

Tonight _was_ his first ever date, but better than that, it was his first ever date with Rick, and they'd finally get to be alone all night long, in the car, in the cinema, in the pub afterwards and then if all goes well, back at home in his bed. He probably shouldn’t throw anymore spanners in the works by using Mike's old geezer aftershave and smelling like another man. 

Rick wouldn't like that anyway, would he? Rick liked him as he was: all rough around the edges and tough, not flowery and girlie like him. Rick had spent all day in the bathroom like the ponce that he was. He didn't expect Vyvyan to do that sort of thing too and be _clean,_ did he? 

The final humiliation!

He tackles the stairs three at at time and arrives at the kitchen and to Mike at the dinner table, and without thinking he approaches and yanks the hot teaspoon from his cup, studying himself in the back of it.

"Will you stop worrying! You'll be fine, both of you."

"I know that, Mike!"

"It's about time you two crazy kids got your act together. We've been saying that for years. Kettles just boiled."

"I'm fine for tea. I need a bloody lager. What's that meant to mean?"

"You and Rick. You're two sides of the same coin." Mike replies with something akin to a proud smile on his face. This was already too weird.

"We are not!"

"Are to. Just don't toss it away, all right? Be nice for a change, just try it. Just be nice and tell him you like him, Vyv."

"Oh he already knows that I like him," he says, giving Mike a sly smirk and plonking the spoon back in his cup. Rick definitely already knew that. They both did. That line had been easily crossed. They'd 'liked' each other only the other night, in fact. Several times in several backbreaking positions. It's the other side of their relationship that's lacking. After all, it was hard to balance a full and extremely new and exciting sex life when they didn't have a bloody minute to themselves in this house!

"Well there you go then. Tell him you've always liked him." Mike continues to advise. "Tell him you're sorry for putting him through hell all these years and you'd very much like to marry him, have Cliff Richard sing at your wedding and have lots of sex and babies."

"No we'd have The Clash." He mumbles, blushing and tutting, scrubbing his scalp furiously with his fingers. His hair just won't sit right today! "Just, it's all that stuff you said about girls.." he tries, "it's different with Rick, and with another.. with a boy. Look, let's just say, right, for arguments sake, it's a date. Who pays? Who drives? God, I already sound like an utter cock! What am I gonna do next, buy him chocolates and a fucking corsage? Bloody shit, I need a drink."

"Relax. Smile! You might even enjoy it. This is everything you've dreamed about since you were nineteen."

"I'll give you something to _smile_ about in a minute," He tells his so-called friend, glancing in the reflection of the toaster, nipping and twisting the peak of his towering mohawk.

"Save your sweet nothings for Rick, eh? And if you want my advice on the best way to get your leg over, you pay and you drive."

"I don't want to get my leg over!" Vyvyan yells, "Well, I don't just want that. I want more than..erm, never mind."

"Aw Vyvyan, you really do like him." 

"I'm warning you, Michael!"

"We'll have to get some earplugs, Neil and I, for safety, and I hope you are being safe. Remember what I told you about safe sex? I'm just saying."

Mike had given him 'the talk' way before all this Rick thing had started, and for once Vyvyan hadn't taken his advice. There hadn't been much point. He knew what to do, or thereabouts, and they'd figure the rest out for themselves, but using condoms back then when he and Rick had both been virgins seemed a complete waste of time. Vyvyan wasn't allowed to sleep with anyone else - Rick's sulking hissy-fits had made that abundantly clear, and Rick definitely wasn't! And there wasn't much time for conversation when the mood hit anyway: Rick could be surprisingly rough and ready and raring to go when he wanted and everything went out the window, including their clothes sometimes. It wasn't rubber johnnies that were needed to have safe sex with Rick, it was crash helmets.

"I think I've got a stash somewhere if you'd rather be prepared. Let me check.."

"No. UGH YOU'RE SO EMBARRASSING! Next you'll be giving me a demonstration on a banana and a patting me on the back like you're my old man."

"Well someone has to be." Mike smiles warmly at him for a moment before the teasing resumes. "And less of the old if you please. You're not too big to go over my knee, son."

"Arsehole." Vyvyan grins and gives him the finger, snatching his car keys and yelling for Rick to hurry up and get downstairs and in it. Rick yells something back, a reply that Mike won't have understood because Rick is cleaning his teeth and has a mouthful of toothpaste, but Vyvyan deciphers it perfectly. He knows Rick inside and out. "Never mind five bastard minutes. I'm leaving now!" He yells again and Mike waggles a finger at him to remind him. "Yeah, all right. I'll be _nice,_ " he agrees, slamming the front door behind him and the rest of his nervousness. 

He'd thought it all through: the moment they'd enter the theatre he would drag Rick by the hand to the far back row of seats and kiss him - make up for lost time after having to play it so cool at home, so it comes as a surprise when Rick doesn't wait until Vyvyan starts the engine to leap over his knee and pull him in for a snog.

"Hey..mmh,"

It isn't even a full and proper hello that gets mashed onto his lips: Rick _is_ in the mood for it tonight then, since Vyvyan can never usually get him to shut his gob. He doesn't normally get a word in edgeways until he'd been dragged kicking and screaming through every bit of Rick's monotonous itinerary and he'd bored him senseless. He grins against Rick's warm and soft mouth and lies back against the head rest as Rick slows the pace, their breathing in time and tongues meeting slowly as they snog. Rick is a freakishly talented kisser, for such a wimp, and they'd had months of sneaking around to practice and get really good at this.

"Mmm Vyvyan, take me somewhere."

Rick's hungry growl sparks something low in his pelvis and he takes him by the hands, prising them off his shoulders. "I am taking you somewhere." He tells him, levering him backwards, willing his own sudden surge of arousal away, "I'm taking you to the pictures."

"What?" Rick sits up, wriggling far too intentionally over his crotch, gripping his hips with thighs bound in obscene, too-tight jeans. "We're really going to go to the pictures? To actually watch the film? But why? I thought it'd be like that last time, when you took me out and took me up the…"

"Shh!" He shushes Rick with a palm splayed across his lips and Rick's eyes are dazzling with mischief, wrinkling at the corners. "No dirty talk from you tonight. Fucking tease." 

"I was going to say beach. Up the beach."

"I bet you were! Perv."

"I was, and I'm still finding sand in unspeakable places several baths later, no thanks to you."

Ah, so that was the reason for Rick's girlie regime and thirteenth bath this week. Vyvyan holds in his giggle and tries to remain serious. "No. We're not doing that tonight. No shagging til we get home. You're just trying to turn me on by being all sexy, and I'm not having it! We're going to the cinema and we're going to eat dinner and we're going to drink beer, and you're going to enjoy it and behave like it's a proper date if I have to force you into it, okay?"

"Now who's being all sexy, Vyvyan!" Rick pouts and folds his arms. "Whatever you say then. You're the boss."

He ignores that blatantly provocative statement even though his cheeks are flooding pink. "Bloody right I am. Seat belt."

"It doesn't work properly."

"It does if you stay on your own side and stop trying to mount me like a stallion! Don't make me strap you down, Rick, coz I will."

"Oh really."

He pretends not to notice but Rick gives him a look that should be illegal in public as Vyvyan starts the car. This dating lark wasn't half bad.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual this fic is longer than I'd planned xD Plenty of smut and fun at the cinema. Hope you like it so far x

He lets Rick choose the film they watch, some pretentious nonsense that Vyvyan isn't the least bit bothered about for the lack of decent action, blood and gore, but seeing Rick happy quickly washes away any doubts he might have had about calling this a date, and he soon discovers he doesn't need blood and guts to have a somewhat alright time with Rick as he ushers him along.

"Why are we sitting all the way back here, Vyv? It's pitch black!"

He smiles at the young bloke and his bird already mid-snog a few rows in front but he doesn't let on as he shoves Rick in his place. "Shh. Film." He says as Rick sits down, crosses his legs and continues to moan about various things. 

"Oh great, it's already started! We've missed a bit. Vyvyan, we've missed the start now. I won't have a clue what's going on now will I?.. Ooh who's she? She looks important. What's she been in? The one with the hair and that awful skirt? I've seen her in something before I think but she had different hair then, and an American accent. I wish he'd move his big head out the way, I can't see a ruddy thing! It's really dark back here. Too dark. And it smells funny. Like Neil's herbal cigarettes and your leather jacket. I wish I'd got an ice cream now, it's roasting. Aren't you hot? Vyv? Vyv! Vyvyan, aren't you hot? Uh God I'm too hot!" 

"I'm fine. It's fine. Shut up eh Rick? This bollocks cost me five pound sixty." Rick wriggles about in the small space, almost punching him in the head as he attempts to take off his blazer and roll up his shirt sleeves, and finally the room is quiet and still, except for the stupid crunching of his popcorn. 

Vyvyan's heart does a fast _whump, whump, whump_ against his ribcage whenever Rick reaches into their shared bucket to scoop another handful and stuff it in his gob. He's still too nervous to eat anything, and he feels a bit sea sick when Rick squashes close to him in their seats and their bare arms press together. Rick's skin is warm and it's a pleasant, dizzying sensation that makes him strangely lightheaded. He's definitely coming down with something, he thinks, and he knows what it is now: an extremely nasty case of the disgustingly smitten. "You don't have to sit on my knee, y' know." He says, internally panicking that he's losing control as he nudges Rick away, "I paid for two seats so bloody-well use them!" 

"Shh. Film." Rick sternly nods, already engrossed and Vyvyan yawns and jabs him in the arm with his elbow. 

Despite any protest, he wants Rick to remain pressed against him for as long as he wants to be now, as if it's normal. He wishes it _was_ normal and acceptable for them to touch each other and kiss in public, like any other couple in here, but he's having stupid second thoughts about it now.

The shy and sheltered Rick he knew wouldn't dare to be so daring, would he? Annoyingly, Vyvyan wouldn't know. They'd spent so long hiding their relationship away that he didn't have a clue on his boyfriend’s stance on such public displays of affection. All he does know is that he hates pushing him away after all this time, and he wants Rick to touch him anywhere. 

Rick is no longer afraid to do that when they're alone, quite the opposite. Rick can't keep his hands to himself and the feeling is more than mutual after months - no, _years,_ of trying so hard not to fall.

But Vyvyan is falling now, deeply into the abyss. He wants Rick to kiss him again like he did in the car, but right here and for hours this time like he sometimes does downstairs before bed. He wants Rick to kiss him like he did on those other nights too when they're in it, the rest of the house is asleep, they're so wet with sweat he can't manage a proper grip on Rick's hips coz it's their third or fourth round and they can't quite scratch the itch. 

The film is just as he suspected and boring this far, so Vyvyan lets his mind wander to the time Rick had first spent the night in his bedroom. It had taken ages for them to get there but they'd certainly made up for lost time, and all things considered, they hadn't remained virgins for long. Underneath it all, he can't help but feel angry for denying himself that. Lager and vodka had eased the pain temporarily but it would never last. Fighting was also useful for releasing some of the tension too, but there were far worse consequences from a scrap than a hangover. 

He recalls the hellish, gut-wrenching injuries he'd inflicted on the one person he'd longed for the most, and he remembers the guilt ringing in his ears afterwards when he'd close his eyes and listen to Rick crying in his bed after a fight. He'd lie awake in his, tucked tight against the wall, willing it to dissappear so he could try and make amends and daring himself to buy a bulldozer the next day, and then the next. The pining was the worst. He's pretty sure the pining would have eaten him alive - or put him in prison, had he not realised one night they were a little bit too close...

He had Rick right where he wanted him that night, during a boring, run-of-the-mill kind of scrap: pinned in perfect, inconspicuous position behind the sofa in the living room, fist raised above his head and poised to smash him in the face for doing the unthinkable and having the nerve to ask a girl out at that party.

Then Rick had looked up at him like that.

And everything stopped.

_"No! Don't! Don't hit me. Please Vyvyan. I won't go with her, okay? Not if you don't want. How am I supposed to know you fancy her if you never tell me things. Please not the face, it hurts! Please Vyv, I'm too pretty!"_

_"Rick, you're an ugly bastard and I hate you and I don't want you to go out with her. Not coz I fancy her, you moron. Because I fancy you! There. You happy?"_

_"Yes. Yes. Oh God yes!"_

For a second he was too stunned to move or say a word, and his chosen position of attack hadn't made it any easier. 

After all, there's no doubting how clear someones intentions are when you're led fully on top of them and their hard on is painfully digging in your hip. 

_"So.."_

_"So what, Rick?"_

_"Are you going to let me up?"_

_"Wouldn't have thought so, no."_

_"Oh. Okay then. Are you going to come here and give me a big kiss?"_

_"If you never ask me that again! Bloody girl."_

_"Okay."_

_"Then okay. Come and get it, if you want it."_

Their first kiss had been many things. A blur. A whirlwind. An eye-opening revelation. Kissing Rick was what it was all about. It was why people wrote Rick's favourite sappy poetry and what that bastard Cliff was often warbling on about. It was the missing piece Vyvyan hadn't realise he was missing until that night, and he understood. That look in Rick's eye coupled with his daring advance and tumbling, all-consuming kiss had totally knocked Vyvyan's socks off, and although they hadn't made it from their hiding place for most of that party, it had scared him to death that he could feel so much. 

Now they're out. Alone. Together. Rick pressed next to him, on a date with him like it should be - like it should have been all this time, and now Vyvyan can fully allow himself to want this, too, with every sinew of his being. He wants to do this everyday. He wants Rick when they're screaming at each other over something silly and he wants Rick when they're silent like this. When they're watching telly. Over the newspaper at breakfast. Even when they fight. He wants Rick when they're naked and he's on top of him, or under him, or when Rick is inside him like he was the other night...

He wants Rick. 

He wants Rick!

Oh _fuck_ he wants Rick!

"You feel like you're burning up, you're boiling. You okay?" Rick whispers, taking another deep scoop from the popcorn bucket - the tips of his fingers grazing Vyvyan's thigh, burning a path through his jeans to his suddenly very interested cock. "Told you it was hot."

"I'm fine. It's nothing, except I think my pants are shrinking."

"What?"

"Nothing," he repeats, "hold this." He slams the bucket down so most of it's contents gets flung in the air and Rick watches him stand and adjust his jeans, wriggling his hips while the couple in front pick popcorn kernels out of the girl's bubble perm and ample bosom. 

Vyvyan hadn't noticed her massive knockers at first - he hadn't been looking or even thinking about anyone but Rick, but if he had noticed her, he'd get a stern telling off for using such a sexist and derogatory term like that, wouldn't he? Saying the word _knockers_ around Rick was a grave offence, and he used to love seeing how many times he could get away with it and how much it wound him up. Not that Vyvyan spent much time talking about girls anymore, he thinks to himself, or knockers either, for that matter. He had Rick now so there was no need to pretend.

"Sorry, I think he's got ants in his pants. Will you sit down!" Rick quickly apologises and hisses, glaring at him with his hand on his crotch. "When you've quite finished making an exhibition of yourself, I'm trying to watch the film and everybody's looking at you."

"So? I don't care," He sits back down and prepares himself for a fight as Rick leans in close, lips ghosting his ear. 

"Well _I_ care. You're mine, Vyvyan. No one else is allowed to see you do that."

"See me do what?"

"That!" Rick snaps, and with that, grabs his cock, sucking in a surprised breath when he learns Vyvyan is so hard his jeans are probably bursting at the well-worn seams.

"Fuck! You pick your moments don't you?!"

Rick shushes him again but his palm doesn't move. "I.. I didn't know you were.. What's got into you?"

"I dunno," he sighs, his legs falling open and eyes shut to the welcoming touch of Rick's hand.

"I didn't think it was supposed to be sexy, unless I'm missing some kinky significance here. Unless it's her and her big.."

"It's not because of that girl, you idiot, or any girl. Fully paid up member of the bummers club, incase I haven't made that clear enough. And it's not the film either, the film's bollocks, Rick. It's you!" He confesses. "For whatever reason, I can't stop fucking thinking about you, you drive me crazy!" he whispers, flashing Rick a glance that he knows will be understood like the night of their first kiss, and Rick gets it.

"Oh. Oh right. D'ya mean crazy in a good way, or.."

"There's only one meaning. Crazy like insane. Oh _fuck me!_ " He growls as Rick leans closer to listen and cups his hand around the bulge.

"You should have said if I was turning you on."

"I just did!" 

"Then I might have stopped."

"And are you going to, stop?"

"Wouldn't have thought so, no."

Before Vyvyan can breathe a sigh of relief, his flies are already down and Rick's blazer is slung over them both. He gasps again, quieter than before. He's still getting looks from what is quickly becoming their audience instead, so it takes everything he has to keep from yelling out loud as Rick licks his palm wet and rams it blindly down his pants.

"Shhh," Rick hushes, soft against his ear. "Just watch. It's about to get really good I think." 

He can feel Rick's smile drift lower and loses all interest in their surroundings as the lips touching and pressing in his neck gently start to suck. 

After the initial shock, the fist in his pants comes to a standstill, the thumb resting on the head of his cock swiping slow, teasing circles until everything feels slick, Vyvyan's thighs are shaking and a burning need is curling through his body from only the slightest touch. He curses his lucky stars Rick is left handed or this would be over by now; this is definitely the dirtiest thing they've done yet... this far.

It isn't long until Vyvyan's cheeks are burning, he's biting the inside of his lip and he's about to blow his load to some shite, black and white film with what, for all he knew or even cared, could be Swàhelian subtitles.

Rick talks him through the film's many plotholes in agony - the ins and the outs, who's been in what and whatever, and Vyvyan has never been less interested or more interested in anything in his life as he grips both chair arms and stares at the screen, his balls aching and fluid seeping heavily on his abdomen as if Neil had spilled a cup of warm tea in his lap. Even Rick's a little hot under the collar when he sits up and leans in for his mouth. 

The moment their lips touch, Vyvyan's cock doesn’t care that they're in a public place, it's about to go off like a rocket and there's nothing he can do about it now - although he tries to fight it momentarily and pulls himself away. "W-wait..." He's going to come. Any second. Very loudly, if Rick carries on. And then they're going to get caught out and possibly thrown out, the date would be over, Rick would be disappointed and there's no way that can happen!

It's not as if anyone could blame him, he thinks. He'd defy (and gladly murder) anyone who could withstand the softness of Rick's hands, his incredible touch, the voice that helplessly reduced Vyvyan to a pool of melted butter, or that fucking lisp!

"Did you see that? Ridiculous!" Rick scoffs, closer to his ear. "That would never happen in real life! _Ohh_ Vyvyan, you're so hard!" There's a familiar hitch in his voice - a tremor that really meant: 'I like what we're doing here, Vyv, but if you don't mind my saying, I'm going to need you to drop everything this instant and come here and shag me please,' and Vyvyan can't take much more. He grabs Rick's face and holds it still, gasping silently against his lips, and Rick reaches for him too, his fingers raking through his scalp, tugging urgently at his hair. 

"Like that?" Rick pulls away to ask. 

By now Vyvyan's heart is racing and he has to let go of the armrest and bite his first two knuckles. "You know I do, you bastard."

"Yeah I know." Rick kisses him again, gliding his hand furiously over the shaft, squeezing as hard as possible as the corners of his lips turn up.

"Jesus, Rick!"

"Sorry. I just wanted you to.."

"Wanted me to... what?" He pants.

"Come."

It's breathed into his mouth - that one word enough to plunge him deeper into the abyss and fully over the edge, his orgasm crashing over him in waves strong enough to blur the darkness and pleasure pulsing everywhere within him until it's firing from his cock. Rick is still kissing him, gripping him, tugging at his hair, and each time Vyvyan breathes and gasps in ecstasy until the shivering jolts subside.

Rick somehow manages to wipe his hands and fasten his belt still swallowing his moans, and Vyvyan sinks boneless into his seat as the lights come up and the credits roll.

"See, I told you you'd enjoy the film."

"Rick," he whispers, breathlessly, "I couldn't give a flying fuck about the film. You are so-" kiss, "fucking-" another kiss, "filthy."

"I am not! I can't help it when you're all… like that, can I." Rick clears his throat and gathers up his things. "Anyway, that's beside the point. We're going to have to come back next week and see it again, coz we've missed the start and the end now."

"Over my dead body! Pub?" Vyvyan asks, 

"If you can still walk?"

"Very funny. You're not that good."

"Tell that to my blazer." Rick tuts. "It'll cost me a fortune to get this dry-cleaned."

"You started it."

"I did not! Oh I don't think so, Vyvyan.." Rick continues to feign his innocence all the way down the lobby and Vyvyan grabs his hand - this is a date after all. 

He doesn't care any more when Rick grabs right back, about anything. He doesn't care what people think of them holding hands in the street, or if they disapprove; it doesn't matter. "Yeah. All right. Maybe I did." It didn't matter about that either. Rick may have started the evening with a bang but Vyvyan would make damn sure he'd finish it.


End file.
